Landslide
by Spotlights
Summary: Maggie, Jackson, Camping.


**1\. I took my love and I took it down**

**M: 6:15pm**

The car rocks a little as he slams the door shut, hard enough to silence her midsentence. She can see his retreating form, barely, the fog is thick and he's dressed in all black and it's blurry and appropriate.

**M: 6:17pm**

Well, she's done it again.

It's something she can't quite put her finger on, ironic but not quite, humorous but not that at all. The way she has been here before, but not like this, not with these feelings, not with this man. It is both poetic and tragically sad how well she knows to navigate this space. What was the point of anything if you always found yourself in places you had been before, circling round and round on an endless loop, somehow being surprised when you found yourself back at square one.

She wonders how it will go for them, breaking up, if it will be a tearful embarrassing mess or will it be worse, regretful and strangely pleasant, done at a glamorous restaurant, over a fantastic meal, because Jackson likes beautiful luxurious things, except of course, this abominable camping. She can see it now, him leaning forward, brushing his fingers against hers, using his soft voice, same one he uses to seduce, saying its over but he has a lot of respect for her, and he would really like to remain friends, and can he have his house keys, his credit cards and his Adidas hoodie back. She will smile prettily and order two portions of cheesecake, which she will drown in when she gets home, he will probably drive her home and kiss her cheek goodnight, all nonchalant. They will meet at the nurses station one evening, he will remind her that she has a few things of hers in his closet, her skincare and lingerie things and can she come over for them, and she will tell him that its ok, he should throw it away, she doesn't need it because she would rather die than step foot in a place that was almost theirs. She will then avoid him in the OR, avoid all his surgeries, and just when she thinks she's ok and she can look him in the face without getting a huge lump in her throat, after a year or so, he will announce that he's getting married to Lucy from Dermatology and then she will have to find another job. She would have liked to remain the regretful and pleasant one here but she suspects she's too far gone. Hopefully he is too, seeing that he just jumped out of the car and stormed off. It's perverse, but it makes her feel better to imagine that he's feeling as terrible as she is, maybe then he won't call it. At least she showed him her, not just the sexy brainy parts, the angry, the irrational parts, and she cannot bring herself to regret that.

It's too late now, because ultimately Jackson is a proud man and she knew just what to say. He does too, and the only difference between them is he fancies himself a better person while she knows exactly who she is.

She's disappointed in herself, for getting used to the validation he gives her, and that the slightest criticism can make her feel like she did when she was fifteen, always in rooms full of condescending and patronizing adults. She's mostly disappointed that they are in this horrible freefall that you can't fix until you hit the ground and hope that you can both survive the fallout.

**xxxx**

**J: 6:17pm**

The branch smacks him straight on the forehead and breaks his stride and it only angers him more when he shoves it away and it swings back and hits him harder. He can still hear the revving of the engine and he wonders in she can see him, if she is looking at all.

**J: 6:23pm**

He hates that he is hoping that she will follow him out and that is the main reason why he is walking in as straight a line as he can through these wet trees and their low hanging branches. She won't, of course, but he keeps flashing his flashlight to the compass on his wrist and keeps heading due north. It's for the best really, because he saw her face when she accused him of not liking her, and he's angry enough that they wouldn't have made it back in one piece, were it not for this fog.

**J: 6:30pm**

The cold is sharp and biting and it's exactly what he needs. Thankfully, this tree stump is pretty smooth as if it were cut down instead of falling and breaking into two. He shines the flashlight upwards, he can barely make out the leaves above him, but there must some bird in the tree, causing the leaves to rustle. It's freezing, his shoes are covered in mud and there's a mosquito buzzing around his head but he needs this, his needs this space, he needs to breathe in this cold biting air.

**J: 6:35pm**

It has gotten much darker and he should be heading back to the car but he just keeps sitting on the old bark. It's close enough to the tree next to it that he can lean on it. It's hard and slightly wet and he can feel the moisture starting to seep into his sweater, but he can't identify it in the dark, he can only smell its earthy freshness. He tries to move his head and feels how his hair has gotten caught up in some twigs. It's entirely uncomfortable and he really should be heading back but he just sits and thinks.

She will be worried by now but it's ok because she's safe. She's much too smart and cautious, she won't come out to look for him in this darkness and he's glad.

He has been sitting here in this sharp, biting cold and those words keep ringing in his ears, settling into his brain shifting right into his consciousness and imprinting there like a footprint in concrete. He remembers how she said it, how her voice sounded, how she faced him so defiantly, almost triumphantly. She is a vicious little thing, Maggie Pierce. Not always, no, just when she wants. He's seen her fight with her mother. He's seen her argue with Meredith. He watched her obliterate Kiki.

He wonders if she really doesn't respect him. He doesn't care for the opinions of too many people, if he did, he would have never even become a doctor, let alone a surgeon. She's not just anyone, she has inspired his surgeries, they critique each other's projects as pillow talk and she's the only person who he has taught his signature suturing technique that not even Mark taught him. He doesn't need everyone's respect, but she's his lover and his muse and he'll be damned if he doesn't have hers.

Maybe she said it because she hates camping, didn't really want to come, but he had been so sure that once she was here, once she felt the morning sun on her face, once she sat on the rolling hilltops and watched a sunset with him, once they trekked through the woods and made it to the waterfalls and she saw the way the water fell into the most magnificent blue pool, once he took her to the tree where he had carved in their names and once she had laid on the ground and watched the stars and made out the constellations in the sky that he was sure she would pick out, he was sure she would get it. There's not too much that excites him really, she's right he's rich and privileged, but he has come to appreciate the simpler pleasures in life, when his daughter hugs him, seeing his mother happy in love, listening to Maggie endlessly prattle on with all the little facts her giant brain seems to hold. He knew she would have endless things to say about everything she saw here, she always knows a million things that he doesn't and he loves that she could never bore him even if she tried.

**J: 6:41pm **

He wonders how long she was holding all that in.

No, she wasn't unhappy. It wasn't the camping. Not when they had been so happy yesterday, making it to the campsite and frying dinner in their one little pan. She had insisted on bringing snacks with her, she had brought an array of chips with her which she had started eating the moment they left his house, some popcorn seeds, skittles which he loved but she hated and a lot of dark chocolate. They had gone fishing, well, he had, and she had sat on a rock by the creek, telling him stories of when she was a waitress at the country club and she was so funny when she told him how her glasses had once fallen into a customer's potato leek soup as she was serving them and the manager had made her drink it herself. They had spent nearly three hours at that creek and he kept catching little fish, but then she had said that she wanted to try, and even though he had already felt the slight tension in the rod that let him know that something big had caught the bait, he had stood back and watched her reel the trout in, her expression priceless as she thought it was all her work.

She had not been unhappy. Certainly not, when they had been giggling by the fire because she was singing her favorite song, Kiss by Prince, which he had never heard before her, and which had been the source of plenty Prince vs Michael arguments in their house, and she was dancing around the fire and she kept laughing and wondering if her hair would catch fire if she went any closer, and he pulled her down into a hug, partially because she smelled so good, partially because he was rather afraid that she would tumble into the fire.

She certainly hadn't been upset then, not when she had turned in his arms and straddled him, smiling into his eyes for a long second before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, which had thrown his balance, making them topple over to the side, which only made them giggle harder. This was what he had wanted, lying together by a fire, just being, and he had thought, looking into her face, that he had never felt more connected to a person in his life.

It was not unhappiness on her face when he'd made love to her by the fire, or early this morning when they'd sleepily reached for each other or even after that when he'd come back and found her wide awake and insatiable, she'd pushed him down and hopped on top of him, but then he'd sat back up and drew up his knees so she could be close enough for him for him to run his hand up her spine and into her hair and for him to taste, and she had kept her gaze steady on his own, and he had been glad to see that she wasn't hiding from him anymore.

**xxxx**

**M: 6:43pm**

God, she's going to miss him.

Not just the sex, although she will miss it dearly, he is empirically excellent. It's the ways in which he has changed that for her that stand out. They have a lot of sex and she thinks it's because they like it differently, well she does, Jackson just likes to have sex. At first, it was hard and fast, just how she liked it, in closets, moaning into mattresses in on call rooms, thrice in her lab against the wall, with him pushing into her back, one hand moving across her breasts, tweaking her nipples until they are rock hard and she can feel the wetness pooling in her undies, moving down to rub her clit and not letting up, thrusting, until she's screaming into his other hand clamped tightly over her mouth as he buries his own moans in her hair. He knows how to get her off quickly, with tongue, and fingers and kisses at the base of her neck.

Lately though, a lot of it has been a lot slower, longer, they don't even do it at the hospital as much as they used to. He likes to kiss her slowly and deeply, and he moves his tongue against hers to the rhythm of his thrusts, and she starts to feel the building tension in her core, and even when he picks the pace, he likes an obscene amount of eye contact, she can tell because he bites her lips when she tries to close her eyes for too long, and its only in the moment when his hips are moving so fast its erratic and he's taking all these quick little breaths, and she can feel his back muscles clench under her hands, and he's tightening his huge arms around her, and he's groaning deep and guttural, that his eyes close, and he's so beautiful and unafraid and she's glad to have seen him like this and she wonders what he sees on her face. It's all uncomfortably intimate and very intense and she thinks she will cry if they never do this again.

Mostly, **she** will miss how his face lights when he's playing with his daughter, or talking about his fancy surgeries or how it did yesterday the whole drive to this place. He holds her hand always, in front of his mother and everyone, and she knows she will miss most the feeling that she is finally where she belongs.

**M: 6:47pm**

A loud crack on the windscreen startles her and she's panicking for a full minute before she realizes that it was probably a small bird. There's condensation on the windows and its getting uncomfortable warm, so she opens the door.

**M: 6:50pm**

35 minutes. It's been 35 exactly minutes since he walked off and it's become so much darker since then. He said he would be gone for 10 minutes, he's been gone for 25 more and she is starting to panic.

She climbs out of the car, her foot throbbing painfully when she puts her weight on it and limps to the front of the car. She can see nothing, the fog has become thicker, descending over everything and it's only the blinker from the car that's slicing into the thick fog that's helping her see.

She calls out his name once, twice, thrice and the only thing she hears is the echo of her own voice, the revving of the engine and her heart pounding in her ears.

* * *

He's impulsive, unpredictable and rash but he always keeps his word. He said 10 minutes.

She paces in front of the car, her anxiety building steadily, ticking of the possibilities in her head, injured, lost, _dead_.

It's been over half an hour, its freezing cold and there's sweat forming on the back of her neck.

Her thoughts are racing, and she's rushing to the back of the car, throwing the trunk open. There's a spare wheel, a carjack and wheel wench, some more tools she cannot name, a first aid kit, some jumper cables. She spots two hazard triangles and rushes to place one a couple of paces in front of the car and one behind. It's nowhere near enough, it's too dark now and the fog is so unbelievably thick that she doubts that it will do much to alert anyone.

**xxxx**

**J: 6:52pm**

He should have brought a bigger flashlight. And a jacket.

It is completely dark out and the fog is still thick, but he can see a luminous light cutting through that lets him know that it's a full moon out, thankfully that he's not a superstitious man; he would have otherwise taken that as a bad omen.

There's wind howling through the trees, and it reminds him of the night he stumbled across Raffi and his dad and how happy he was to have some people to talk to, instead of sending unanswered texts.

He stands up stretching, and he's hoping to find her sleeping in the car, so he can check her ankle and reapply the ointment to her neck, and he hopes she remembered her bags of chips in his backseat, they haven't eaten all day and maybe she'll be in a better mood. He has a lot to say to her, and there's been enough talking for one day.

It's time to get out of this place.

**xxxx**

**M:6:54pm**

She jumps back into the car, in the driver's seat and examines the dashboard, turning the lights on and off, sighing in relief when she sees them come on bright and yellow, slicing through the darkness of the fog and the night in front of her. Of course he had fog lights installed, she's so thankful and all he needs to do is come back so they can leave this awful day behind.

She's wondering how long the lights can stay on before the battery dies when her phone rings sharply and for a split second she thinks its Jackson calling except it's not because she can see his phone in the coffee cup holder. She grabs it and switches it on and is thankful when there's no password prompt, although she's pretty sure she might wager a guess. She's equally grateful that its almost fully charged, which makes sense since he's had it turned off almost the entire time since they got here yesterday, unlike hers from which she has been frantically texting Alex about Gus and is now almost dead, and which is still ringing.

It's Alex. "Pierce how far out are you?" She can tell he is frantic from panic in his voice and she feels guilty because she hasn't thought about Gus at all in the last thirty minutes.

"Alex...I won't make it in time, its Jackson, h-"

"Tell him you need to get here! You can reschedule your stupid camping or whatever but Gus needs you now and I mean right now, the blood donor just got here with Hunt and there isn't enough time for you two to be-"

"I don't know where he is! Look can you call someone from Seattle Pres? It's much closer and I won't make it there in time. Ask for the Chief, Dr. Maxwell. I-"

"What the hell Pierce? We have a plan we can't just change doctors now and Altman is out."

"Alex please just call Seattle Pres and ask for Dr. Maxwell. Tell him it's Dr. Maggie Pierce asking for his help, he'll jump at the chance."

"Listen, call him and explain to him the procedure you were planning on doing. I don't want us to change the plan now with some doctor that doesn't know what the hell he's doing. This is a child we are operating on, so make sure you explain it to him word for word before he comes here and touch..." the line goes dead as her phone dies.

She grabs Jackson's phone and scrolls through the contacts spotting the number she is looking for and dials.

"Jackson?"

"Mer? It's me."

"Maggie whats going on? Are you still in the woo-"She interrupted speaking quickly. "Mer, Jackson's been gone for about," she checked her watch, "45 minutes. I need you to call someone while I go look for him. "

"Maggie slow down. Where did he go? Where are you now?"

"I don't know Mer! It's been a while and there's fog on the road so we stopped driving and he left the car to go check it out and please, there's got to be a patrol right? There's got to be people that man the woods or something so please Mer find their number and call them while I go find him."

"Where did you go? Which park?"

"Glenn Rock. If you need to talk to me call me on this number ok? If I find you I'll call you and let you know."

"Maggie, please listen. It's dark and It's not safe for you to be out there alone, ok? Lemme call the patrol people and you just sit tight in the car. He's probably on his way back to the car."

"He's not Mer. He had a tiny flashlight. Somethings wrong and we are wasting time right now so please just call for help, ok?"

"Maggie listen, I know you're scared but I really think you should stay in the car and we'll come get you ok? Jackson would want you to stay in the car safe. I'm getting Alex and Amelia right now and we will get the patrol people and we are coming to get you, just stay where you are."

"Meredith." She tried to hold back her tears but she was choking on them. "We had a fight. He left the car to get away from me. I have to find him."

"This isn't your fault."

"What if somethings happens to him and I'm right here? What if he's not ok? Or injured, and I'm just here doing nothing while he's dy-"

"Don't say that. Ok? Please just calm down, we're on the-"She hangs up and it's rude to do it but this conversation has already run too long.

**xxxx**

**J: 6:56pm**

It's the telltale hiss of a rattlesnake that stops him dead in his tracks, even though he felt his skin prickle just before he heard it. He can't see it; he dare not flash his light at it, and he turns of his flashlight. He can tell it's in front of him, to the right and he tries to slow his breathing so he can hear the direction it's moving.

It's definitely moving towards him; he can't tell if it's making a beeline towards him, so he starts to step to his back right, which he calculates will be the fastest way to get out of its path. He takes a few more steps and he can hear that he just moved out of its path by the rustling of the dry roots he hears to his left. It still sounds uncomfortably close and he instead moves a few more fervent steps to the right, holding his breath steady so as not to startle it, and he's so distracted doing this that when he feels the sharp pointed end of a what he thinks is a broken root stab through into the calf of his right leg, he has to bite down hard on his tongue to prevent from crying out. Shit.

The pain shoots up all the way into his groin and when he instinctively jerks his leg away the pain sends shooting sparks behind his eyes and he feels the warm wetness flow down his pants letting him know that he is bleeding. He wonders mildly if the snake will smell his blood and come back.

The pain in his leg is excruciating and he has is panting against a tree, waiting to stop hearing the rattles in the distance. He can feel the sheen of sweat on his forehead and his leg feels like lead and he can only extend his injured leg forward and fall gracelessly on his left knee on to the grass.


End file.
